Born Again by Alfred William Lawson (fiction book recommendations .txt) 📖

way responsible for their existence. I was accepting something from the community, but giving nothing in return. I felt that in living at the Waldoria, and doing no work for the community, I was like a great sponge soaking up the life-blood of honest toil, and returning nothing for the sustenance it afforded me. I felt that I should at least go to work and do something that would help to pay for my keeping. True it was that I had the money to pay for these things, but where did the money come from? Where does all money come from? To have money to pay for things does not mean that one has earned them. So I decided that I would go to work as soon as possible, and give to the community an equivalent for the things I enjoyed.

But then, the great difficulty arose when I tried to find something to do. It made little difference what kind of work I should engage in as long as it was of a productive nature. But when I went around looking for employment, I discovered that there was none to be had.

It is certainly a most unnatural system which fails to utilize all the power at its command for the good of universal production, and it seems hard to realize that such conditions can exist; but during my wanderings from street to street, store to store, and factory to factory, throughout the great commonwealth of New York, I discovered that besides myself, there were also thousands of other earnest men tramping the streets, willing, but unable, to find work. At last, however, I was put in the peculiar position of having to pay to work. One day, after a week of unsuccessful attempts to obtain employment, I ran across one of the sub-bosses of the street-cleaning department. Making known my desire to him, I was amazed when he told me that he would let me work on condition that I paid him twenty-five dollars for the job and promised to give him ten per cent. of my wages each month. He informed me that all of the men under his charge had to do likewise. In fact, he intimated that in order to hold his own position as sub-boss he had to pay this money to bosses higher up in the department.

And so in order to feel that I was at least doing something for the community to earn my right to live, I was forced to pay for the opportunity and also to aid in keeping alive one of the many systems of graft, which unnaturally swallows up the results of honest men's labor. So I began work as a street-sweeper--a position looked upon generally as one of the lowest in the scale of human employment. Why the man who sweeps the streets, making clean and wholesome the thoroughfares, which have to be traveled constantly by the people, and saving the public from filth and disease, should be looked down upon by the rest of his fellow beings for doing this great service, seems beyond the limits of sane reasoning; but such is the case in this world, where money is the god worshiped by all.

An illustrative incident occurred while I held the unique position of street-sweeper, and at the same time being a guest at the fashionable Waldoria Hotel. I had become acquainted with many of the wealthy guests of the place, who, no doubt, supposing me to be a man of riches, courted my society to some extent. In fact, I had become rather popular among the permanent residents. There was one family in particular, a certain Mrs. Snipe and her two daughters, who took every occasion to pay me attentions, until one day as I was engaged in my daily work on the street, some distance from the hotel, I noticed a carriage approaching which held Mrs. Snipe and her brood. They were all looking straight at me, but gave no sign of recognition as they passed along. That evening, after I had changed my working clothes, which by the way, resembled the white duck outfit worn by an African explorer, and, having left them in the tool-house, I went home and attired myself in evening dress. Again I met the Snipe family in one of the foyers of the hotel. The old lady, accompanied by her eligible daughters, approached me and said: "Mr. Convert, I have something awfully funny to tell you. It is just too funny to keep to myself. You have a double; we saw him today. Now, don't get angry when I tell you where we saw him and who he is, but he resembled you so much that if it were not for the position he occupied I should have sworn it was you. He was a member of the street-sweeping brigade, and if you wish to see him just go over to Fifth avenue and Twenty-sixth street tomorrow and you can see for yourself. There, now, you are not angry, are you?"

"No," answered I, "the person you refer to I have seen many times. There is nothing to be angry about. Certainly, not because he holds the honorable position of cleaning the streets which you have to travel."

"Honorable," retorted Mrs. Snipe; "you must be joking. I cannot understand how an aristocratic gentleman like yourself would otherwise make such an absurd remark."

"I am not joking at all," said I; "in my estimation, the street-sweeper belongs to the most honorable portion of mankind. He is down-trodden by society now, owing to an unnatural system which permits the strong to take the largest portion of wealth and rule; but the day will come when men who sweep the streets or occupy other positions of worth to the community, will enjoy the same luxuries and surroundings that you and other non-producers now enjoy. They will live in the palaces now occupied by the parasites who do no work. Such places as the Waldoria Hotel will be utilized for their benefit, and those who do not work, those who claim the right to live without labor, will be thrown out entirely."

"Why, Mr. Convert, what do you mean by talking in such a beastly way? If you are so fond of those vulgar street-sweepers, why don't you become one of them?"

"I have," I answered. "The man you saw today sweeping the streets was none other than myself, and I am proud of it."

"You are either joking or else you have gone out of your mind," said Mrs. Snipe with a look of disgust. But upon my reiteration that I was really the man she saw, both she and her daughters abruptly left my presence and never looked at me afterwards. They no doubt communicated the text of our conversation to the different people of the hotel, also, for I discovered later that the other guests with whom I had become acquainted, not only refused to converse with me, but regarded me as a sort of curiosity or peculiar freak of nature. They would pass me on the street, where I was working at different times, in their gorgeous carriages, and, calling each other's attention would pass jokes at my expense, and laugh loud and mockingly at me. At first these things troubled me to some degree, but gradually I gathered courage to bear their sneers-courage such as I had never experienced before.

I had faced all manner of dangers during my life without fear, but I had never known the real meaning of courage until I made up my mind to do right under all conditions, and accept the ridicule of my fellow beings without resentment. In my humble position I could now appreciate the philosophy and the true greatness of the Sagewoman's beautiful lessons of unselfishness. I felt that I was just beginning to get strong-strong in the grandest attribute a human being can possess-moral courage. The great Sagewoman's teachings on forbearance were beginning to take root in my nature. I was learning to understand that I must work and feel for others, regardless of my own selfish desires.

One day, while I was busily engaged in my daily toil, my attention became attracted to a big, fashionably dressed man, standing on the sidewalk near by, calmly smoking a high-priced cigar. He was apparently about thirty years of age, six feet tall, and weighed over two hundred pounds. He was beastly in appearance, and looked as if he considered his own selfish wants as the only things in the world worth attention. He probably had never done an honest day's labor in his life. A ragged old man, about sixty years of age, who apparently had given his whole life to productive toil, but now feeble and half-starved in appearance, approached and appealed to him for a few cents with which to buy something to eat. The big fellow roughly told him to go along and not bother him, and the old man, not doing as he was ordered, the young man deliberately swung his fist and struck the poor beggar between the eyes, knocking him senseless to the pavement. For a moment I was dumbfounded by this exhibition of brutality, and then instantly every drop of blood in my body was set boiling at the sight. I lost control of myself. My old-time pugnacious spirit asserted itself, and I sprang forward like a maddened bull, striking the brute a vicious blow upon the head with my fist, and sending him sprawling several feet away. As he scrambled to his feet, in a dazed condition, I rushed forward furiously, with the intention of felling him to the ground. After allowing him to regain his feet, I raised my arm to deal a well-directed blow with all my strength, when something within me suddenly cried out: "Don't strike." "Don't make a brute of yourself because the other did." "Let the law take its course." And, as I hesitated momentarily, there passed through my mind like an electric flash, these words:

"Always consult your soul for advice.

"Do no act your conscience will not sanction."

Then instantly recognizing the mandate I had so faithfully promised the great Sagewoman to obey, I overcame my rage and allowed my arms to fall to my sides without striking another blow.

Two policemen hurriedly approached the scene. I stated what had occurred and requested them to take the bully to jail. To my surprise, however, at the command of the well-dressed ruffian, who I afterward learned was a wealthy financier, both myself and the beggar were taken to the station-house. I was fined ten dollars, and the poor old man was sentenced to jail for thirty days.

While I knew that in this case the law of justice had been misapplied in favor of the cowardly Wretch with money, nevertheless I felt that I had gained incalculable strength in self-control by not acting contrary to the warning of my soul and making of myself the same kind of a brute as the one whom I had intended to injure.

CHAPTER XXX

Central Park is a tract of land situate in the middle of residential New York. It is oblong in shape, being two miles in length, half a mile in width and covering an area of about eight hundred and sixty acres. The ground has been artificially changed from a wild waste to one of the most beautiful spots to be found anywhere. It is coursed by a net-work of splendid drive-ways, equestrian roads and foot-paths running in all directions among the many little rocky hills and miniature lakes. Trees, flower-beds and shrubbery of various kinds have been cleverly arranged by skilled artists to form a delightfully picturesque effect. Chirping birds of many colors and tame squirrels in multitudinous numbers find this park a heavenly abiding place where the danger of annihilation is minimized. Playgrounds for the children are laid out in different parts of the domain while a zoological garden where animals are kept imprisoned in small cages